I’m Game
by Goddess Isa
Summary: Buffy and Angel cuteseyness. Or at least, I think it’s cutesey. I love fluff. :)


TITLE: I'm Game  
AUTHOR: Goddess Isa  
EMAIL: goddessisa@aol.com  
SUMMARY: Buffy and Angel cuteseyness. Or at least, I think it's cutesey. I love fluff. :)  
SPOILER: NOTHING! Okay, like, slight Forever, but that's freaking it  
RATING: TV-PG  
DISTRIBUTION: http://planetslaythis.homestead.com, Fanfiction.net under Goddess Isa, anyone else, just send me the URL  
DISCLAIMER: Joss Whedon owns the characters herein. Plech.  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is first in a series. I don't know how many they'll be.  
2/23/02  
  
  
  
"Do we really have to stop?" Angel asked as Buffy pulled into the parking lot at Super Wal-Mart.  
  
"Yes! I have to make a decent dinner for Dawn. You know those people spy on us all the time. If they were to see us feeding her, like, fish sticks and ketchup—"  
  
"That's Dawn's favorite food," Angel pointed out.  
  
"It's crap, and it'll look like crap."  
  
"She probably won't even be home until late, remember?" Angel asked her. "She's studying for that French exam."  
  
"I need to have dinner waiting for her when she gets home."  
  
"How about Chinese take-out?" Angel suggested hopefully.  
  
"Vegetables," Buffy got out of the truck and slammed the door. "I need vegetables."  
  
Angel sighed and followed Buffy into Wal-Mart. Humanity is a bitch though, so he stopped in the men's room and found her pushing a cart around the frozen foods section. Angel knew she had a cart not because she was going to buy a lot of groceries, but because her mother had always taught her to push a cart through the store, just in case.  
  
"It makes sense," Buffy had echoed Joyce's words for him not long after he'd turned human and moved in with her and Dawn. "Then, if you wanna buy ten jars of peanuts and a two-liter of root beer, you won't be dropping things or breaking your arms."  
  
"We could get that Stouffer's spinach pie I saw on TV," Buffy suggested, stopping to open a freezer door. "Or we could get—"  
  
"Marry me," Angel said suddenly.  
  
"Marra-me?" Buffy made a face and tossed a bag of mixed vegetables into the cart. "Is that one of those gross British dishes you got from Spike? 'Cause if it's anything like that veal-brains thing—"  
  
"Buffy," Angel smiled and took the frozen spinach out of Buffy's hands. He kissed them until they were warm again and then said, "I just asked you to marry me."  
  
"Oh." Buffy stood there in shock for a minute, then she jumped. "Oh. Ooooh, yes! Yes, Angel, yes!"  
  
She giggled and kissed him and hugged him and kissed him some more. She accidentally ran over his foot with the wheel of the car and then they kissed again. Finally, the frozen-foods guy with a purple nose ring told them to take a family-size lasagna on him and go. They went.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
"What on Earth happened in here?!?" Dawn demanded. She was standing in the kitchen doorway in utter disgust. There was spaghetti sauce and cheese and noodle pieces everywhere. The walls, the ceiling fan, the cupboards, the sink, the floor. The plates on the table, however, and the silverware beside them, were immaculate. No one had actually eaten anything, as far as Dawn was concerned, but the lasagna dish sitting on the table was empty, and the mess was sickening.  
  
"Buffy!" Dawn screamed at the top of her lungs. "Angel!"  
  
No answer, which was highly odd for such so-called responsible guardians. Dawn put her bookbag down on the floor, then thought better of it and took it with her upstairs. If Buffy looked inside and saw that she had a mini skirt and boots instead of history and chemistry books, she'd be suspicious. Dawn noticed some of Trey's tattoo paint was on her forearm, and she rubbed it off with a smirk. Now that Angel was human, he wouldn't be able to spell Trey on her. When Spike came around, well, that would be another story, but Dawn would enjoy her freedom while she still had it.  
  
Not too surprisingly, the trail of spaghetti sauce led up the stairs in a messy fashion. Dawn was beginning to wonder if rabid werewolves had somehow been let into the house and had ransacked things.  
  
No, she thought, If that had happened, then there would be garbage everywhere, not just The Food Formerly Known as Lasagna.  
  
"Buffy!" Dawn called. "Buffy!"  
  
After dropping her bookbag off in her room, Dawn returned to the trail of marinara. It led to the master bedroom, and when Dawn heard giggling and the shower running, she stopped. Horrified, she saw her mother's sheets smeared with tomatoes, noodles and cheese. Messy clothing were strewn everywhere.  
  
Dawn decided to stand—in the only small piece of carpet not smeared with lasagna or clothing—and wait for Buffy and Angel to come out so she could confront them. She was very thankful they decided to come out of the bathroom in robes. Well, one robe but it did cover most of both of them. Dawn had seen Angel's ass once before though, so it wasn't a big deal.  
  
"What are you DOING in here?" Buffy demanded as Angel scurried carefully into the bathroom to get a towel to cover up with.  
  
"I'd ask you that, but I can tell! Only I can't imagine what you actually DID in here. What DID you do in here, Buffy? What?"  
  
"We—"  
  
"Exploded a lasagna in the kitchen, then decided to carry gobs of it all through the house, upstairs and into Mom's room?"  
  
"It's my room now, Dawn," Buffy said firmly, as though nothing else mattered. Angel giggled at the tense sound of her voice.  
  
"Angel," Dawn carefully stepped around the mess to get to him. He was wearing a towel around his waist and had Buffy's O-Town tee shirt on his chest. It was way-small and looked hysterical. After letting out a snicker, Dawn asked, "What happened downstairs?"  
  
"We made lasagna."  
  
"Well, we didn't really make it," Buffy said.  
  
"Yeah, we just kinda heated it up in the microwave and then started stirring it."  
  
"And then?" Dawn asked, exasperated.  
  
"And we sort of........"  
  
"Angel threw first!" Buffy shouted.  
  
"I did not!" he retorted.  
  
"You did too!"  
  
"Threw what?" Dawn asked. "The food? You were throwing food?"  
  
Sheepishly, the couple nodded.  
  
"You're pathetic," Dawn shook her head and turned to leave.  
  
"We're getting married!" Buffy called after her.  
  
"Good for you! Use condoms, please. I'm not taking care of any nieces or nephews while you two partake in food fights."  
  
"We'll clean it up tomorrow," Angel added.  
  
"No kidding," Dawn said. "I'm not touching it. Anyone needs me, I'll be at Trey's."  
  
"Who's Trey?" Buffy and Angel asked in unison.  
  
"Trace's," Dawn corrected quickly, retrieving her backpack and grabbing a sweater. "As in my friend Tracey? I'm staying the night so you won't have to worry about me getting in the way of your war with the macaroni and cheese I made for lunch."  
  
Dawn ran down the stairs and slammed the front door behind her.  
  
"Mac and cheese?" Angel asked.  
  
Buffy arched an eyebrow. "You hungry?"  
  
He flashed her an evil grin. "I'm game."  



End file.
